Gemotions

He’d always been a collector, a hoarder of memories and mementos. Now, that curated life had been stolen and repurposed. He saw the book, "The Collected Years of Thomas," advertised everywhere. His face, his name, his possessions: all repackaged for public consumption. A wave of nausea, sharp and bitter, rose.

He wandered through his apartment, touching the objects he had so carefully chosen, the photographs he had painstakingly arranged. Each one now felt tainted, defiled. He stopped in front of the window, staring at his reflection, a stranger in his own life.

He felt a deep, profound sense of disconnection, as if he were watching someone else live. He sat on the floor, the world spinning around him, the manufactured biography a weight he couldn't bear to lift.